


Unholy

by the_hunting_nephilim



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Parent John, But He's Unholy, Cas Knows It's Wrong, Cas had an alcoholic mother, Cas is Gay af, Cas' Blue Eyes, Dean has an Oedipus Complex, Dean loves mythology and everything to do with nonhuman creatures, Dean's got a crush!!, He's not Underage in Some States, Highschool AU, M/M, Mentions of Benny, Mentions of Mary and her death, Mentions of Suicide, Student!Dean, TRIGGER WARNING!!, Teacher-Student Relationship, dean is bi, mentions of abuse, more mentions of abuse, teacher!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-15 06:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13607529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_hunting_nephilim/pseuds/the_hunting_nephilim
Summary: When Dean sits down in his first period English class on the first day of his senior year, he's taken aback by his attractive, new teacher, and Cas seems to have a thing for Dean.





	1. Blue

Dean Winchester sighed deeply before giving a friendly smile to the elderly shop teacher holding open one side of the heavy metal double-doors for the approaching students. Finally, his last first day of highschool. He had already dropped his younger brother Sam off at his first day of eighth grade. The way he saw it, after each summer of hard-working to save up money, he could move out at the end of the year and get a cheap apartment in town with Sammy to get away from his drunken father. It was no surprise to anyone in town that John Winchester, after the untimely death of his wife, that he turned to the bottle. There had been several custody battles between Mary’s parents and John, and Dean and Sam had been caught in the middle. Just over the summer, the courts had apparently saw John fit enough to care for both boys, and had placed them back in his control. Dean remembered the last time it happened: Sammy was reaching into the refrigerator for the half-gallon of milk (the only size John could afford and be bothered to buy) and he knocked the brand new bottle of whiskey to the floor, instantly shattering it. The rest of the day Dean only remembered in flashes: John ripping off his belt, the sounds it made when it struck Sammy’s body, Dean attempting to push John away only to be struck himself, Dean calling 911 and talking to the emergency operator. He was eleven, now he's seventeen - eighteen in five months.  
After almost walking into an open door, Dean pulled out his crumpled, piss-yellow schedule sheet. “English IV with C. Novak” was his first period. He wasn’t familiar with the teacher - this was his first year teaching at his school. He reached the room in less than two minutes and picked a seat towards the back. When given the chance to choose his seat, he always chose the back of the room. He always listened better when he wasn’t in the hot spot AKA the front two rows. He hadn’t always been a good student, not until his brother started tutoring him.  
“Okay, class. Settle down, please,” an appealing, masculine voice spoke. Dean raised his head to meet the most perfect pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. He felt his cheeks blush as his jade orbs met his teacher’s cerulean ones. Novak shut the door and went to his desk - which was closest to Dean’s. “Here is the syllabus. If you don’t like your seat with all your heart, move now. That will be your seat for the rest of the year. Now, I assume most of you know each other’s names and maybe a few public details, but we’re going to do a little get-to-know-your-peers exercise after we go over the syllabus,” he hushed his voice and bent towards Dean and whispered, “What’s your name?” Dean cleared his throat, ”Dean,” he whispered back. “Dean here is going to pass these out, and I’m going to call role.” He handed the warm stack of papers to Dean then sat down. He spoke smoothly as he called out each name alphabetically as Dean awkwardly walked down the aisles and handed a copy of the syllabus to each person. By the time he got back to his seat, Novak called his name. He answered by saying, “Here,” and handing the remaining copies back to him. Novak gave him a small smile and took them gently. “Thank you, Dean,” he said, but Dean thought he said, “Suck me, Dean.” He blushed and sat in his seat when he realized his mistake. He knew he wasn’t gay. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t; his dad wouldn’t allow him. I mean, the first and last guy he was with didn’t count; he broke all contact with Dean when Dean wouldn’t suck him off. He’s not gay. He never has been, and he never will be gay.  
Novak cleared his throat and walked to the front of the room. “For those of you who don’t know, I am Mr. Novak, and you will refer to me as Mr. Novak. For this year, we will use two classic novels, Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Dracula. For those of you whose funds are limited, it is not necessary to have your own copy. I will need to know if you’ll be able to purchase your own copy or if you need to borrow one of mine. With our peer activity, you will need a piece of paper and a pencil or pen. I want you all to write a simple paragraph or two about your favorite color and why it is your favorite. Don’t worry, this won’t be graded for mistakes and errors; you’ll get an A if you do the assignment. For privacy, on the bottom line on your paper, let me know if you can’t purchase your own copy of either book. Any questions?” He paused for any raised hands and when no one had a question, he walked back to his desk.  
Dean pulled out a piece of paper and reached into his backpack for a pencil, when he realized John forgot to buy him a pack. He clenched his teeth and held back his anger. He turned towards the teacher’s desk and quietly asked, “Mr. Novak, can I borrow a pen or pencil? I accidentally left them at home.” He nodded and motioned to a wire cup on his desk, “Just be sure to return it, please.” He sighed a soft breath of relief and chose a simple black ink pen.  
In ten minutes, he poured out his heart as to why blue was his favorite color - it was the color of his mother’s eyes. A few minutes after he finished, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class period. ‘Onto Economics,’ Dean thought. “Leave your papers on my desk before you leave, please,” Mr. Novak told his students. Dean laid the paper down and unconsciously slipped the pen into his pocket. “Have a good rest of the day, Dean,” Novak spoke to him, pulling a toothy smile from the blonde. “You too, Mr. Novak.”


	2. Green

The first half of Dean’s first day was a blur. Economics, then History, then Auto class, etc. Each teacher gleefully introduced themselves and passed out syllabuses, but none struck him as much as Mr. Novak. Novak stayed in his mind throughout the first half of the day; nothing was able to move him from the young blonde’s mind.   
Lunchtime came, and reminded Dean just how much of a loner he was. He had no close friends to eat with, and his favorite teacher had retired the previous year. With a sigh, he grabbed a sack lunch from the cafeteria and came to the open classroom door of Mr. Novak. His quick introduction left Dean wanting to know more - his first name, his age, how soft his lips were… Peering inside, he rapped on the door with his right knuckles. Mr. Novak was facing a small microwave in the front corner of the room, but turned at the sound. “Dean. What do you need?” he asked with a furrowed brow. Dean cleared his throat, “I don’t exactly have anyone to sit with during lunch. Could I maybe sit in here?”   
Novak gave a soft smile, then motioned towards Dean’s previously chosen desk, “Of course. I’ll be back in my seat once my lunch is heated up.” He silently took a breath of relief and sat in his seat as the microwave beeped. Novak grabbed his lunch and returned to his comfy swivel chair.  
Dean first adjusted his desk to where it faced Novak’s, then opened his sack and pulled out his sad-looking sandwich. He chuckled slightly at a joke he shared with his younger brother. “What’s the chuckle for?” Novak asked, slightly confused. Dean looked up to face him and answered, “My younger brother, his name is Sam, couldn’t properly pronounce ‘sandwich’ when he was two. He called them ‘sammiches’ and it turned into a goofy nickname my grandparents and I use for him occasionally.” Novak smiled at learning a piece of Dean’s life. Swallowing the spaghetti noodles he had in his mouth, he turned the conversation around. “I read your paragraphs after class. I’m extremely sorry for your loss. I haven’t lost a parent, and I couldn’t begin to fathom how painful it must have been. But I do understand about having an alcoholic parent. My mother loved the bottle more than my father, and it caused their divorce,” he calmly stated, hoping he didn’t offend the young man. God knows he’d been through so much already. Dean nodded, unsure of what to say. He turned his eyes down, looking at his disgusting half-eaten sandwich.   
Novak pulled a sticky note from his desk and rapidly scrawled numbers down. “I’m hoping you don’t take this in an inappropriate manner, but here is my number if you and Sam need a place to stay for the night,” he said as he held it out to him. Dean shuddered as their fingers touched briefly. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need to get away. I don’t mind. But I will deny it if you go bragging to anyone; though you don’t seem like the type to,” he added hesitantly as Dean shook his head. “I won’t. I don’t really have anyone to brag to,” he promised. Dean finally allowed himself to glance at those lips he’d been thinking about all day, and found himself wanting to feel how soft they actually were. “So what does ‘C’ as in C. Novak mean?” he asked curiously. The older man chuckled, “You have to guess. I’ll give you a hint; it’s a holy name,” he snarkily answered with a hint of flirting in his tone. Dean thought back to the book of angels and demons that Sam bought for him two Christmases ago. “The only two that come to mind are either Cael or Cassiel,” he stated. Cas smiled and grabbed another sticky note. “It’s a different spelling but it’s Castiel,” he said as he wrote out the letters on the slip of paper then handed it to Dean, “C-A-S-T-I-E-L. Keep this a secret too, please. I had to leave my previous school because of the nicknames.” Dean nodded again and promised he wouldn’t. Dean reached for the second sticky note and let his hand linger on Cas’s for a second longer. Cas took in a sharp breath, but didn’t say anything. He leaned forward over his desk.   
Dean’s heart suddenly beat so loud it was deafening, and his face became deeply flushed; however he found himself leaning forward. They slowly closed the distance between them; three inches, two inches, one. Then, the bell signaling the end of lunch rang. They both exhaled breaths they forgot they were holding then moved back. Cas cleared his throat, “If you need to call for any reason, don’t hesitate.” Dean barely heard Cas though - his heart was pounding louder than the bass drums at pep rallies. He wasn’t paying attention and almost ran into the wall. He hoped Cas didn’t notice, then frantically ran to his next class. But Cas did notice.   
He noticed everything - the blush, the nervousness, Dean’s gorgeous jade eyes, the subtle way Dean mentioned his father’s alcoholism in his writing, the pain in his eyes of everything he’s been through. Cas secretly looked up the age of consent in Kansas as the students for his fifth period began filling in the seats. He then wondered how old Dean was. He was a senior and definitely not younger than sixteen, the age of consent. But he couldn’t be falling for his student already. He’d known him less than a day and he already gave him his personal phone number. He wasn’t like that with anyone he’d been with. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ Cas thought. Dean definitely was freaked out by Cas leaning forward, but what exactly did Cas see in his eyes? Anticipation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in two days!! And over 150 hits in under 24 hours! I've already begun chapter three and it will be posted probably tomorrow.


	3. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being gone so long. in this chapter, there's a treat for sticking with me.

The rest of Castiel’s day went by tediously slow, and with many mistakes. During his fifth period class, right after lunch and his almost-kiss with Dean, he dropped the entire stack of syllabi while thinking about how soft Dean’s lips looked. He knew it was wrong. In Kansas, the age of consent was sixteen, but he knew that it was looked down upon until the person in question was eighteen. After Dean fumbled out of the classroom, he took a little trip down to the office. He claimed he wanted to know more about the custody battle that Dean alluded to in his paragraph, but he really needed to know how old Dean was. His breath haltered until his cerulean orbs fell upon his birth date; he was seventeen. But there was still that matter of Cas being his teacher. Now that was completely against the rules.  
Dean’s day went by just as slow as Castiel’s. He even fell asleep in sixth period thinking, and almost dreaming, about Cas. He thought about the nicknames that Cas told him about, and thought about what he’d call him during intimate moments. Cas, Angel, Cassie…. Wait, he wasn’t gay. Why the hell was Dean so wound up about him? Dean had never even thought about being gay. Hell, John would kill him if he ever found out. I mean, sure, he had glanced at the other boys in the locker room; some with bulges, some with smaller dicks, round soft asses.   
His freshman year, he thought about being with another guy, someone in his gym class. He’d caught him glancing at Dean’s sizeable bulge as they were changing and the other guy blushed. The two started talking while doing warm-ups and eventually exchanged numbers. He learned that the guy’s dad was abusive toward him when he came out, and that caused his parents’ divorce. The guy, Benny, didn’t mind it. He became extremely silent when his monthly visitations with his father came up - apparently the courts didn’t find Mr. Lafitte too abusive to not have court-regulated visits. One day, after his monthly visit, Benny didn’t show up to gym class. Two days went by with no Benny, and word finally got out. His father had said something to him that finally broke him. Benny’s mom found him in his room, wrists slashed. Dean was devastated, but kept his number on his phone. Some nights, he would call the number just to hear his voice on the voicemail, but eventually, the number was given to someone else.  
After that, he never let himself get close again; especially to another male. At the end of his seventh period, Calculus, he reached into his pocket for his flip phone - his grandparents tried but couldn’t afford a smartphone and the bills that came with it - and realized he still had the pen that Cast- Mr. Novak let him borrow. Rushing, he ran to Novak’s room, praying to the angel’s that he hadn’t left yet. Upon reaching the room, he saw the lights on and the door was closed. Looking inside, he saw Cas sitting at the desk, probably overlooking papers. He took in a breath and rapped on the door. Instantly, Novak snapped his head up and smiled when he saw Dean. He made his way over to the door and opened it. “Dean, shouldn’t you be heading home?” he asked, furrowing his brow. Dean reached into his pocket, goose-bumps forming as his fingers touched the note with his number on it. “I forgot to return this,” he said as he held out the pen to Cas. Cas chuckled, “You could’ve given it back tomorrow.” He shook his head, “Winchesters never steal.” He left out the ‘unless it’s necessary’ part out, “And I drive my own car, so it’s no big deal.” Novak moved back, “Do you want to come in? I need to apologize for my earlier behavior.” Dean finally let out that big breath and nodded, moving forward. He sat down in his familiar seat in front of his teacher’s desk. As Cas sat down, he began: “I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have. God, you must think I’m a pedophile who preys on guys half my age.” Dean shook his head, “I don’t. My freshman year, I had a friend…” and he explained the whole ordeal to Cas, carefully letting loose of every detail, including his fear of being gay. This man was a practical stranger who he almost shared a kiss with and here he was, pouring out his secrets while the man sat and quietly listened. When he finished, he was in tears. He may have been emotionally broken, but he was mentally perfect and full of courage.   
Standing up, he gripped Castiel by his tie and pulled him until they were mere centimeters apart. “I’m sorry, Cas.” Somehow, saying his name out loud for the first time gave him the courage to tilt his head and meet his lips with his teacher’s. It was simple; lips moving against each other’s while Dean’s hand still gripped his tie as tight as he could manage as Cas’ arms held himself up over his desk. There was no tongue, no teeth-clashing, explosion described in books and movies. When they separated, both were breathing heavily, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Cas looked away first and cleared his throat. “I gotta go and pick up Sammy from school. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, unsure of their relationship. Cas answered with another kiss to Dean’s lips. “Tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I co-wrote part of this about two years ago, and it was never finished. I decided to re-write it my own way and to the best of my memory. Be sure to leave a kudos if you liked this and check out my other works! 
> 
> EDIT: We just got a new kitten and she's been taking up a lot of our time. Chapter three should be up tomorrow lovies!


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